


We Mean Something

by Kajune



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 11, Author not sure what they're doing, But writing this is fun, Chuck is God, Dean is a Good Friend, Dysfunctional Family, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Original Character(s), Season/Series 11, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-06 15:22:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10337594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kajune/pseuds/Kajune
Summary: Season 11 AU : What if both Lucifer and Michael escaped The Cage, and it was together the war against The Darkness ensued?





	1. Prologue

_Our King has returned!_

The demons roar and cheer and celebrate. The founder of their race is back on the throne and they can once again see the grand archangel in all of his glory. 

_The false King has fallen!_

They cry, elated beyond words to be rid of their salesman of a king. The joy is felt throughout every domain of Hell, its prisoners all made aware of the rare happiness now brightening the universe's saddest place. Torturing ceases for the prisoners as every demon gathers in one area to celebrate, to dance, and to mock the pitiful sight of what had been their dictator. 

The commotion gives one individual the opportunity to enter through Hell's doors unseen. He travels to the lowest depths until he finds a nice, dimly-lit room. Lying motionless on the floor is a woman with a broken neck. Nothing shifts in his expression, the man remains stoic as he approaches the dead body, and with two fingers outstretched he places them on her forehead, and energy flows through her.

A sickening sound of bones rearranging back into place is followed by a loud gasp, and the red-haired woman rises instantly, eyes blown wide and bouts of dry cough spew from her mouth.

She glances around hastily, almost wearily, until she notices the man standing nearby, looming over her almost.

"W-Who are you?" She inquires.

"Call me Nithael. I presume you are Rowena MacLeod?"

There's a small smile overtaking the woman's features, a mixture of pride as if recognition alone could help her forget her disastrous end. "Yes, I am," she replies, and the man takes her hand and helps her to her feet.

"And you must be an angel."

Her eyes rake his form up and down, fascination gleaming in her dark orbs.

"I am an angel, yes, and you are a witch. I have orders to have you use your powers for my master's cause."

Rowena flinches as if violently stung. Fear crosses her face as if the memory of her last master's sweet regard for her is all too real all of a sudden. Nithael continues to stare, unfazed by her temporary display of horror.

"Master? What master?"

She sounds much more defensive now, less courteous and with a hint of spite directed at oneself for trusting the angel so quickly. Even her shoulders are stiff and her eyes have hardened into a glare. It's hardly a scary sight, but one must never judge a witch by his or her appearance.

"Michael."

The name does not ring a bell, but Rowena can put two and two together and if this man is truly an angel from Heaven, then only one Michael fits the bill.

"The Archangel?"

Nithael nods and extends his arm behind her. "Please, come with me."

Rowena reluctantly follows him, curiosity taking the better of her judgment. She's heard of Heaven's supreme general, said to be the very angel who cast Lucifer into Hell after defeating him in a decisive war. Despite her newfound contempt for the Devil, Rowena has no clue whether to fell elated or disturbed that she is about to meet Lucifer's enemy.

Nithael takes her back down the stairs towards the heart of Limbo, an endless expanse of land made of rock, dirt and bones with cages adorning the surface. Above is nothing but darkness and lightning. The air holds only sorrow and misery. It's a place Rowena would rather flee from than walk into, but Nithael's hand is still an inch from her back; who knows what he'll do if she resists.

Once they reach their destination, Rowena is met with the sight of four people, three dressed in black and another in torn, gray clothing. Her first thought is demons, but no one thinks to correct her just yet.

A howl near the entrance has her jumping nearly three feet in shock.

"Don't be afraid," An Asian-looking man tells her. "these hellhounds are here to keep unwanted outsiders from interrupting our meeting."

Rowena turns back to the crowd gathered a few steps ahead of her. She is certain they are demons, but why are they working for and with an angel? Crowley and Castiel are a unique pair, but this doesn't make any sense. None appear to be hostile, so Rowena urges her body to relax a bit. No howl follows the first but she can now feel that there are more than a dozen eyes on her, more than she can count.

"So... what is this meeting of yours? And why does it have to include me?"

The Asian demon steps forward. "We want you to free our master from Lucifer's Cage."

"He's in the Cage!?"

Questions fly within Rowena's head as to why the Winchesters never bothered to mention this. Why on Earth did they decide calling Lucifer was a better option? The Asian looks over his shoulder, and the shaggy one gives him a nod.

"Yes, and since you are experienced with the spells written in the Book of the Damned, we know you can help us free our master."

Rowena feels tempted to ask why Michael is their master, and at the same time, how did he come to deserve a place in Lucifer's prison. She refuses to think that Michael maybe worse than the Devil who so kindly broke her neck, even though she's beginning to learn that she is really bad at deducing people at first glance.

"The spells in the Book only talk about projecting someone into our world from the Cage, not bring them physically here."

The man smiles at her, almost fondly, as if she were a child who had asked where clouds or babies come from. He points towards the entrance, eyes fixed on her as he says, "That's why she's here."

Rowena turns around and sees a dark-skinned woman descending the staircase.

"Sorry I'm late, got a little caught up in an 80s song one of your 'friends' was singing."

She approaches the group, paying Rowena no heed as she comes closer to the man in question. He chuckles.

"Whoever has such poor taste in music isn't a friend of mine." He points to the group of three behind him. "They are." A chubby one waves.

The woman stops right next to Rowena and looks at her. Nothing about her demeanor or her leather clothing give off her identity. Rowena can't stop herself from feeling somewhat like a helpless animal backed into a corner.

"Hey," She greets. "name's Billie."

A stiff nod is all Rowena can give. She is still not sure if she is being lured into another death trap.

"Billie here has a special tool that can open the Cage, however, the door only goes one way. We were hoping you could give us the reverse." The Asian man says.

Billie hands Rowena four shiny rings, all conjoined to look like a keychain of sorts. Nothing about them gives off their ability to open such a powerful prison, but everyone around her seems convinced.

"What do I get in return?" She asks the Asian man.

"Anything you want." He answers humbly, and Rowena, not for the first time, curses herself for feeling so _bought_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An old idea I had lying around. No guarantee that I'll finish it, but I'll try. :D


	2. The Devil Is Lurking Nearby

_Six days later..._

Sam is not sure what to make of the situation. He's partially to blame for trying to remove the Mark from Dean, which led to the return of The Darkness, which also led Sam into trying to contact Lucifer thinking he could find an easy way to fix the situation, and now there's this.

The Darkness is on the loose.

Lucifer nearly got out of his prison.

Dean has been acting strangely.

Crowley hasn't been contacting them.

And there is still no way to deal with the massive threat looming over their heads.

Did he forget to mention that monsters are going crazy right now? Each species is trying to defend itself from what used to be an ancient bedtime story to scare kids into obedience. Now it's all real, and once again, it's all Sam's fault.

Sam kind of wants to blame God for creating the Mark and for not simply obliterating his sister, but that's asking too much. He's not even sure God is strong enough to kill her, given that he used all four of the Archangels to help him win the war. He could blame God for not doing something about it now, but that's just Sam deflecting responsibility, which he's probably done more times than he'd like to admit.

Damn him!

The only good thing left is Castiel. Although he's busy most of the time, Castiel is diligently helping Sam look for an alternative way to fix the situation. Dean tries to help too, but he seems more occupied with drowning himself in alcohol and music than helping Sam like a responsible human being.

Again, Sam is blaming others and not himself.

Right now, Castiel is standing in the library, transfixed by a book that has nothing to do with magic sigils or anti-mass of darkness, instead it's about angels. Sam should probably get Castiel to fix all the false info written in the few lore books the Men of Letters actually made about angels, but that's for another occasion.

Sam rubs his eyes to rid them of tiredness. He's been staring at the computer screen for too many hours now. Research used to be fun when he didn't have to worry about the world exploding anytime soon.

It takes Sam a full minute to get up from the chair and check on Cas. He walks over to the angel and peers over his shoulder. Strangely, Castiel is observing a page about angelic possession and what the Men of Letters thought about it. The page talks about the necessary requirements for a suitable vessel and what a human could do to become one.

The topic interests Sam but Sam doesn't know why it is so fascinating to Castiel. He doesn't even need a vessel, he's got his own body. When he speaks up, Castiel is so startled he nearly drops the book. He places it back on the shelf before turning around to face Sam, his expression oddly innocent.

"Cas, what were you doing?"

"Reading."

His voice sounds equally innocent too, but too much like a child who just pulled his hand from the cookie jar for Sam to not feel a tad bit suspicious. He doesn't get mad though, he shouldn't, not at Cas, so he taps him on the shoulder and gives him a firm look. Castiel was probably entertaining himself with something else anyway. It's unfair that they have to read a particular topic that might not even exist in this library.

At least, it's unfair to Cas.

"Just, try to stay focused okay? I know you're tired, I am too, but please, try to find us one book that is in anyway useful."

Castiel gives him a dubious look like that he doesn't believe he ever will find such a book, and Sam doesn't blame him. He's kind of confirmed that the Men of Letters know nothing about The Darkness, let alone about life before the Big Bang. It's only by luck that books like the Bible have any info that could be used when dealing with The Darkness and her actions.

If only they knew where she was.

Despite the unlikelihood of finding anything useful offline, Castiel gives him a nod.

"I will try my best, though I recommend you take a nap Sam."

Just when Sam's about to protest he feels a wave of dizziness. Stress has been getting to him. He doesn't want to leave Castiel to do all the work because of the mountain-sized guilt he'll be feeling for doing so, but he doesn't think he'll be of much use anyway unless he does take a nap.

Castiel watches him silently as he heads towards the bedroom. For some reason, he continues to feel Castiel's eyes on him no matter where he goes. Even after the door closes and he drops down onto the bed, Sam still feels the sensation of being watched.

No one followed him in though, he checked.

As he passes the threshold into dreamland, he feels a wave of cold wash over him. It's very familiar, but he's asleep before he can think any further. His last thought is that someone else is in his room.

 

 


End file.
